Act 7: The Call From The Past
by Genine
Summary: Just because you are all alone with a woman who calls herself 'Angel' doesn't make it a honeymoon.
1. Chapter 1

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Chapter 1

Roger  
March 23

If there's one thing that I can promise to myself, it's to never be married in the future. The majority of women are a death sentence and cause nothing but serious trouble. They're as bad as they are good; they either offer one great night in bed or a horrible migraine headache the morning after. There's a reason why they were first tempted to take the apple; they are nothing but sheep-in-wolves-clothing, sinful, misleading, inconsistent devils who always think they are the ones right.

Call my claims extreme-- which perhaps they were-- but my circumstances were beyond the last straw. I had been stuck underwater in an airtight room for hours with a woman whose complete nature was the opposite of her namesake.

The blonde in her pink miniskirt sat on a desk a few meters way in the interior of the room. She was lighting a cigarette, the lighter producing a rare temporary bit of illumination. And then it was gone, replaced by the end of a glowing butt. If there was thing I could not stand, it was smokers. I hated the smell of nicotine. I was not a Private Investigator.

"Why do you deliberately foul the air in here?" I said from my position on the old couch.

The window offered me great views of the city ruins. The panorama of it all fascinated my mind; either that or the ceiling which was very dilapidated and revealed broken wires. It looked like it would fall any second on us and yet something still bonded it together.

"I'm smoking because I can't stand the air in here. It gives me creeps," she said. She had been staring for some time at an invisible target in the darkness for at least an hour.

"I consider it a small blessing not to mention impossible that we even have air in this room at all. And I also realize there's no telling how long it'll last."

She forcefully ground the cig out on a rusted ashtray, sighing. And then she turned to me. "So, Mr. Smart Aleck, how are we gonna get out of here?" she yelled, her angry voice echoing loudly throughout the vast room.

Above me I saw a cockroach crawl on an expired light bulb.

************  
Roger  
March 20

Just because you are all alone with a woman who calls herself 'Angel' doesn't make it a honeymoon. It all began just a couple of days ago.

It had rained the night before near the docks. The salty air overwhelmed me in the shantytown. The roads were slick with muddy puddles and the temperature was significantly cooler.

"Ya mean to tell me you kin even negotiate to bring down the price of fish?" the middle-aged man in the shade challenged as he chewed on the thin rigid bones of his last meal, his barefoot heels relaxed on an empty crate. Not far from the yellow rapid shelter stood his small fisher's cabin.

"Of course I can," I said behind my shades as I stood beside the wharf watchman. "As long as its a legitimate case. There's been an unusual increase in fish prices for two weeks now. Do you think that people outside the dome should only eat synthetic cereals?"

"Eh. I don't have any fish to sell. It's the retails sellers that are doin' the price-fixin'."

"You're saying that there aren't anymore fish to catch?"

"Oh, yeah. Sure. There are fish to catch. It'd a-take three-thousand years to catch all the fish in the sea with all those reefs." He briefly looked up at me from under his black trucker-style hat.

"Alright. Why then?"

"Because there ain't nobody who will go out and catch 'em critters. All the fishermen refused to go out to sea. Yep. They're all too scurred."

It was true. Along the dock floated empty, abandoned ghost-white trawlers-- trawlers which used to head far out miles into the ocean and bring ashore a trail of hungry hawking seagulls.

"What are they scared of?" I pressed on.

"They're scurred of the sea titan," he said as he lowered his hat. And that was the last of our exchange.

Sea titan. For a moment I was no longer by the dock but at Electric City, reliving everything again. The cold snowy night, the strange mysterious wail that plagued the river, the black tall creature that rose out of the water and had the seemingly magical ability to harness power, die, and resurrect a brand new beginning for the residents who had only known darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

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Chapter 2

Angel  
March 23

I had been sitting on that darn desk on my oh-so-sore butt for multiple hours already. I was waiting for something-- but what? Escape? Death? Suffocation? Whatever it was gonna be, I wanted it to happen quickly and painless. I can stand anything else but, please, no torture.

It seemed like death had been lurking around me everywhere these days. I remembered I almost died there in Electric City. I had escaped that sea titan by perfect timing on Roger's part and the dealt hand of luck and nothing less. Death was angry that I had cheated him and was coming to get me once more. There was an old clock on the grey wall that had lost its operation a long time ago. I bitterly had stared at it for almost forever as if the chunk of metal was responsible for the time I had wasted here.

"Well? What are you planning to do? I'm not just gonna hang around here and wait so I can starve to death," I said to Roger who, unlike me, seemed oh-so-comfortable on his little spot on the couch. He showed no signs of impatience. He just sat there, staring through the window at the ruined buildings as if they were instead a homey hearth. Ugh. What was he doing?

"I bet we'll run out of oxygen before we starve," he mused.

See what I mean? I sighed. "Well, what kind of bet is that?"

"If you really are an Angel you shouldn't worry. You could always collect your money in heaven."

"You may think you're funny, Roger Smith, but I'm not laughing. You're gonna keep playing innocent until it kills you, aren't you?"

***************  
Roger  
March 20

The sun was setting at Pier 29. It was actually quite beautiful, the silhouettes of the mountains splashed against the vibrant sky. I found the solitude and silence relaxing. I passed by the empty boats along the dock, my footsteps hard against the wooden walkway. Resting on the shore were quiet warehouses and forlorn businesses with colorful names like 'Aliolio's.' It looked like postcard scenery. There were no noisy people milling about, no trash or bird poop littering the deck.

I found a pale-faced old man wearing a light brown beanie alone at the edge of the dock, mending by hand an old-fashioned net.

"Even though you don't head out to the fish, you still keep everything in good shape, huh? What do you mean by the wrath of the sea? What are they afraid of?" I asked him.

At first I was afraid that the old man wouldn't say anything, but then the dead end cleared up. It took me over an hour to get the story from the old fisherman.


	3. Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

Angel  
March 23

I paced impatiently throughout the room. I hated waiting, not knowing what would happen. I could not stay still. I was dying of boredom in prison. I was going to become mad.

I counted how many times I had crossed the room and passed Roger. 1... Back again. 2... Back where I started. 3... Back to where I came from...

I sighed again as I stopped pacing and looked out the window, hoping for a distraction. My breath fogged up the glass. It was so hot inside, there was no air; I felt like I was going to pass out. Great. I wasn't even going to be conscious when I died. It was the last straw. Forget I had dignity. I had to cool off. I zipped off my suit, which revealed my undergarments. But I didn't care. Such things were trivial at a time before death. I grabbed a book and proceeded to fan myself.

"Don't your people have a rescue plan?" he said. "I mean, won't they miss you for a while if you don't come back?"

"I doubt it. My client isn't that soft-headed," I said, turning around. I did not want to speak to him ever again. There was no time for this stupid talking.

I heard Roger mutter something in his surprise, something in a tone of voice that I've heard way too often. It was a very faint, "She calls herself an angel..."

Yet another wisecrack in Paradigm City finds it clever to comment on my fated marks. Oh, not again.

**********  
Roger  
March 20

The fishermen got scared because of the sea servants of the sea titan and the wrath of the sea. Until I SEE it for myself, I can't tell whether there is something there that can actually be negotiated with.

Apparently, strange sightings and sounds by the docks were noticed upon by the fishermen around two weeks ago. And along with these sightings came the presence of an overbearing fog, which according to sailor folklore was the medium that the evil servant spirits used to travel between the realm of living and dead. These frog-resembling portents with bright glowing eyes appeared usually during the late nighttime and certainly spooked the workers so much that eventually everyone went away and stopped fishing.

And so I investigated these highly skeptical claims. I entered an abandoned building that had previously been a restaurant. It had a clear view of the wharf, so I waited until 11:00, the time when the fisherman said that the spirits usually favored for their journey. By 10:50 I had my night-vision binoculars out, scrutinizing the shore closely for any fog or mysterious sounds. By 11:05 nothing of interest had surfaced and I had dismissed the so-called monster threat as figments of a wild seaman's imagination taken too far. By 11:07 I was ready to go home; it was meatloaf night and my mouth was watering at the thought of Norman's cooking. But then at 11:08, sure enough, an ominous curling fog started to make appearance. I zoomed to the dock on the far right and sure enough found the shadows of hunched, squat figures lined single-file diving into the water. Some of them had 'bright, glowing eyes', just like the old man said. I hid the binoculars for my suspicions were confirmed. The evil portent was in fact not a monster, just foul play.


	4. Chapter 4

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Chapter 4

Angel  
March 23

"She calls herself an Angel..."

Roger's whisper resonated in my mind like an evil tape recorder trying to haunt me. Me? An Angel? Of course not. Not with what I've done. Angels were spiritual, cheerful and hardworking beautiful creatures in stories and false religions who were fortunately lucky enough not to be born human. Angels had a purpose to serve some sort of divine plan, they had the power of flight, influence, control. Angels could even have names. Most importantly, angels were at peace with their identity. They knew who had created them and why.

That was what I was struggling to attain myself. My identity.

Ever since I was a child, I had been plagued by my given name due to the two scars on my back that I had been born with. They said I used to have angel's wings. They told me I was the reincarnation of something important and that one day I would perform a very important task that would affect Paradigm City.

When I turned thirteen, I started to have horrible nightmares about monsters, about giant Megadeus's raiding the city, about explosions and gunshots, blood and death everywhere. I had always been forced to recount these horrible experiences to my mother, my 'family', the Union, to anyone who'd pull my hair or threaten me.

To this day I still struggle to find out what who I am a reincarnation of, what my purpose on this earth is, and whether my dreams are actually memories or a foreshadowing of an imminent tragedy to come. I have researched the religious and factual writings from over 40 yrs ago, and it has all been to no avail. Angels, gods, and demons were all lies; there was no purpose, control, meaning in this blasted world. I had to learn it all the hard way by myself.

The only thing that made sense in my life was the fact that it was always dramatic, unlucky, lonely, painful, and tough not knowing who I or Paradigm City exactly was. The more I found out, the more things seemed confusing. The more I explored, the more it seemed like life didn't want me to know.

"It's all lies!" I cried out, sitting on top of the table once more. I wanted him to shut up; my back was turned away from him and I wanted to make it clear that I did not want to answer to anything.

"What is?" he demanded.

"All that talk about there being a limitless supply of memories being left down here," I gave in angrily.

"Why are you looking for memories anyway?"

"Because they're worth a lot of money, naturally."

"Is that the only reason?" he pried in a certain quiet tone of voice that indicated that he had been sincerely doubtful of me for the longest time.

That-- that bitch! Why can't he just shut up and not mess with business that's not his? Why did it feel ike he could read me like a book? I hated this invasion of privacy.

I couldn't see him, but I imagined his dark eyes, dark as my own, tracing the outline of my scars. I for some reason imagined a kind, caring, concerned look on his ever serious face... then rudely shoved the thought out. Roger-- concerned? Please. He was only manipulating me, my mind, angling to get the upper hand and grab any and all the valuable information from me just for... for his greedy prideful purposes. Humans only cared about themselves, after all. Always have.

"What do you mean?"

"Were you born in this city, Miss Angel?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" I said, playing it safe.

"Because it's common knowledge that the people who are born in this town and continue to live here usually don't think to get their memories back."

I whirled around on the table. Roger was not looking at me but staring at the ceiling. It was hard to tell what his facial expression was.

"And doesn't that disturb you? Not knowing what ever happened to our parent's parents not knowing where they even came from and not understanding who we are or any idea why we live here?" I yelled, resisting the urge just to break down and cry.

"That's just it. People who live in or outside the domes are able to live here today because they made it a point to not even think about."

True. I hadn't even thought about that way before; it was a very interesting point. Perhaps I had cared too much, perhaps I had spent too much time dwelling on the past, a past that could not and would not ever be grasped by human minds.

I had always thought of Roger as one of them, one of the usual social elite who went with the flow, enjoyed the triviality of wealth; one of them who ignorantly and blissfully never questioned the concept of existence.

Perhaps I was not alone in this room with my pain as I so had thought.

"But you're different, aren't you?" I said softly, curiously.

Silence. I felt an awkward lump in my throat.

The next sound was of him grunting as he stood up and sighed. "Anyway, this discussion really is annoying," Roger said in irritation.

"What?"

Annoying? The discussion annoying? It was actually getting interesting.

"I have a lady trapped with me here, a sealed room with no escape, and she won't even throw herself into my arms and beg me to save her!" he projected in a dramatic theatrical voice. I imagined him on a stage dressed up in a suit in shining armor and myself wearing an old-fashioned dress in a tower leaning over the balcony.

And where did this outburst of energy and shockingly real humor come from?

I couldn't help it. It was a giggle, a chuckle, then a full-hearted laugh. I hadn't laughed in so long. I felt as if something had been lifted from my chest.

I hated fighting, with Roger especially. Men!

"You know, you are such a louse, Mr. Negotiator," I said, turning my head to look at his smile. He apparently liked my laughing. Apparently he was beaming, reveling at the fact that I found him entertaining for once.

"That's okay. I'm used to people telling me that," he said casually, brushing it off.

I looked at the window, looked at the crooked buildings immersed in the blue, wondering what it was that Roger had been staring at for so long. I guess, in a weird way, the scenery actually looked kind of beautiful, not to mention ridiculous. After all, buildings weren't supposed to be in water!

"Running into this place has to be one of the worst mistakes in my life," I mused.


	5. Chapter 5

***************  
Chapter 5

March 21  
Roger

At 1:00 AM I arrived at home, cranky and hungry. After eating a cold piece of meatloaf, I loafed into bed. Dorothy's piano woke me up several hours later, harshly reminding me of my responsible duties as a negotiator. Before I knew it I was down the highway headed for the beach cursing to myself.

There were twenty-nine piers in total, so I had one down and twenty-eight to go. Piers one through five were situated on the industrial side of the beach. There were more warehouses, buildings, crates, and machinery, most of them empty and abandoned due to the failure of the fishing industry. However, there was no relaxing quiet dock here in front of pier number one. Its hangar was occupied. Its quite easy to tell when you're walking down a deserted beach and then all of a sudden hear the racket of industry.

The warehouse read 'Readerman's Factory.' Inside the dark hot warehouse were several men busy at work on some sort of marine vehicle. Which I thought was kinda suspicious considering the people in the city were none too eager to get into the water.

"Is there a man named Readerman here?" I yelled above the sound of hammering and welding.

A skinny-looking man stopped working and looked down on me, removing his safety mask. He made a noise, stood up, and turned to what I could only assume was his boss.

"Didn't you hear me when I said I wasn't interested? I don't wanna buy anything!" said a big shouldered middle-aged man who emerged from the top of the boat.

"Okay. What is it you're not going to buy?"

"Huh?" the man said, taken aback. He glanced at me up and down. "You're not the insurance agent."

I looked down at my suit.

The man got to the ground, took a better look at me, and grunted. He dragged a rolling table with various tools on them, in which he brushed them away. He grabbed a rusty coffee pitcher and mug from the corner and slapped it down.

"Serve yourself," he growled.

Not what I call customer service.

The man proceeded to work. He grabbed a piece of heavy machinery from the corner and began to drag it.

"If this titan's wrath on the sea continues what are you gonna do about it because there won't be anyone left who'll set foot on a boat around here," I said.

"Like I care. This is the only job I know. Whether those fisherman use their boats or not, I'll still keep building the darn thing," he said, holding a gas flame to the underbelly of the boat.

"I heard you're building some kind of unique and unusual ship. Is that true?" I asked relentlessly.

He paused and removed his mask once more to look at me. "Hmph. Now who did you hear that from, huh?"

One always has to know the right questions to ask.

*********

From that pier it was only a thirty minute drive to the Speakeasy. I went in as usual, exchanged several 20s for my favorite bottle, and took the next table over to be with my big help, the one I call the Big Ear.

As I was telling him about everything I learned about at the warehouse a certain girl caught my eye. She had blonde hair and a pale complexion, very dark eyes and bright pink lips. At first I thought it was Angel, but, no, she was way too young. And this girl was... well, way too expressive and happy to be Angel. The young girl in front of me slipped a coin in a slot and was making some sort of jolly innocent phone call to a girlfriend.

"They build a ship that can go underwater," he laughed from behind his newspaper. "Isn't that funny?"

Hearing something funny from the other line, the girl giggled, twisted a curl of her hair, and I thought it was the most prettiest naive thing.

"You're not laughing, Mr. Negotiator?" the Big Ear interrupted my thoughts. "It wouldn't be called a ship if it went underwater."

I watched as the girl said goodbye to her friend and skipped off happily to talk with her friends at a booth.

"But there's something you can't reach at the sea to the south without diving," the Big Ear said.


	6. Chapter 6

**************  
Chapter 6

Roger  
March 21

The same afternoon I went back to Pier 1. I still had business to discuss with that grumpy man. Surprisingly, he acquiesced to my demands. The garage door to the warehouse lifted up and I was surprised at what was cradled inside.

"Is that supposed to be a ship?" I muttered, staring at something that I, well, couldn't exactly describe as resembling a boat. The front of this object appeared round, mostly yellow, and obviously made of metal. It rested on brown wooden beams but was held up to the ceiling on heavy duty chains. In the middle of the yellow object was a black large circle.

"It's a little part of the old man's memories rattling around in my head," the man said proudly. "I was driven to build this thing."

I examined the vehicle closely. For the most part it looked like a round ball that someone could step inside in and maneuver. Its transportation depended solely on the movement of propellers. It was certainly outrageous and I had certainly never seen such a thing.

"I never really tested it to see if it could make it diving under water and coming back up," the man said.

"What if I'm interested in renting it?"

"This little lady's not going anywhere. Or at least for a while. It has to be charged up."

"Alright. I will be back then tonight," I said confidently.

"If you want to make that thing run for ya, then you'll want to make that payment up front," the man said happily, eyeing my black briefcase.

******

By the time I returned to my car I was surprised to see that there was an early afternoon fog out. Which could only mean one thing. I looked around sharply.

Sure enough, in front of Pier 2 I saw three hunched figures moving towards the end of the dock. They could've easily resembled human-- just awkwardly doubled over. After all, they did have four limbs. And those bright, glowing eyes were obviously headlights to see in the dark. Webbed feet and hands hinted at scuba diving. Do these fishermen really think those are servants of the sea titan? Ridiculous!

I was going to confront them.

"Hey, stop! You can't fool me!" I yelled, following the single-file line.

All three of them turned around, their headlights emitting an eerie yellow light. And then quickly they jumped into the water.

"Hold it!"

I did not want to give up quickly and so I continued to run to the end of the pier. This case was already all too frustrating; I at least was hoping to see which direction they would be swimming in. I stopped myself at the edge and looked at the ocean. I saw submersion bubbles a few meters away, indicating a dive downwards rather than a swim in any other particular direction.

*****

Forty-five minutes later I was back at my house opening my wardrobe. Dorothy stood by the doorway watching me.

"Are you going far this time?" she asked in that mechanical tone of voice of hers.

"Just a few blocks. But it is far," I said, rummaging through the hangers. I had already taken off my double-breasted suit and decided to change into something a bit more casual.

"Nothing more than riddles."

"I do suppose so. I may go solving those riddles as a matter of fact," I said, moving in front of the mirror like a vain teen. I adjusted my dark brown jacket and admired myself in it. "I've already told Norman-- I won't be needing dinner tonight."


	7. Chapter 7

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Chapter 7

Angel  
March 23

"I should've eaten before I left," grumbled Roger.

I ignored his complaint as I was completely fascinated by the view beside me on the window. There were beautiful stingrays gliding in the ocean beyond the glass and I felt so physically near to these animals as if I was just of them. It was honestly a one-in-a-lifetime spectacle. These creatures looked so... free. So elegant. So calm. They were not angels yet still had their wings.

"Huh?" I said half-mindedly, not really caring. I didn't want to care about anything more. "What?"

"Err... Never mind. Anyways, it doesn't make any difference. This was all your fault. I should've just taken the ship myself," he said.

Whatever happened to not bringing up the past? He needed to follow his own advice first before shoving it down my throat.

"Well, that really does a lot of good-- bringing it up now," I said scolding.

Oh, Roger. Why couldn't we be like the stingrays and just keep floating on, looking like we didn't have a care about anything at all?

*******  
Roger  
March 21

He just sat there, unnerved, smoking.

"What? But I told you I was going to rent it!" I demanded.

He smiled contentedly. "That woman paid more for it. I couldn't exactly say no, could I?"

I hate it when things go against the status quo. I heard the rev of an engine and turned towards the dock. I saw a yellow ball maneuvering through the ocean water lit orange in the sunset. The hatch of the marine vehicle was topped open and a certain blonde with a pink suit was waving at me calling my attention.

I growled.

"Roger Smith! Roger Smith! Thank you for finding this sweet little boat! Mwah!" she screamed as she blew me a butterfly kiss. She waved her hand.

There was no way I was going to let the yellow vehicle go. Not after all the work I've done. I needed to solve the damn case. I started running, grabbing my shades off.

"She's a two seater. Have yourselves a good time," I heard Readerman chuckle behind me as I took off in a mad sprint down the wooden pier.

I felt my adrenaline running. I was not going to let that mad bitch get away. I was so close to the yellow ball that I could see the glint in Angel's eyes. Gotcha.

Her eyes widened in realization. "Hey, wait! What are you doing?"

I leaped off the pier and with a scream Angel plopped back into the submarine, narrowly dodging my hard fall through the vehicle door. I closed the hatch as the yellow ball descended in sea level.

I was sweating anger. There was not a lot of room in this thing and I was gonna be stuck with HER throughout the entire ride. I heard a click as she turned on the vehicle's headlights. Worst of all, she had the pilot's seat.

"I rented this boat and it's mine!" she yelled like a defensive child. "Who do you think you are, barging in here like this?"

"I have just as much right to be here. I rented this ship first."

Angel flipped on the interior light and then from her seat searched interior of the cabin for something. "You would've really stopped bothering me if you were a gentleman."

"Never mind gentle. Look ahead," I said, sighing.

She shifted her head up. Without my warning, we'd have bumped into that sunken building. She suddenly jerked the submarine and we were in safety. We drove past the underwater buildings, taking a straight route clear of any obstacles and heading deeper into the mysterious place.

It suddenly became quiet in the cabin. The only other sounds were our breathing and the hum of the propeller as it sifted through the currents.

Beyond our yellow ball to the right was an old city underwater with tall majestic skyscrapers. Obviously, some tragedy had occurred over 40 years ago that had caused the unlikely scenario. The sight was unfortunate yet eerily beautiful. Welcome to Atlantis.

Angel set the submarine on autopilot and both of us struggled to see through the single tiny round peephole on the side. What was interesting was that some of the windows of these buildings were lit as if everyday life was in occurrence within them. But... how?

"That's interesting. Looks like some places have electricity," I mused.

"It's almost as if there are still people down here," she said quietly as she took a seat again and took off the autopilot. We passed by a lit building and could see what used to be some sort of high class restaurant with broken yet beautiful chandeliers and knocked over tables.

Angel smiled in admiration as she gazed through the main window, gently maneuvering the vehicle. She actually was not that bad of a driver; she checked all the gauges and indicators to see that everything was as it should.

Then there was a great audible thud as an upside down face smacked the watershield. There were more bangs affecting the exterior of the vehicle. We were not alone. A face that resembled a frog's, a face with two bright glowing orbs that was all too familiar to me and caused Angel to scream in horror.

I jumped myself as well.

"So these are the people passing themselves off as a titan," I said as the face slid off. I had seen two very human eyes under the bright glowing orbs.

Sounds of squeaking filled the cabin as the men in wetsuits left our submarine. Angel was wide-eyed in fear; she stared about the vehicle, expecting another frog man to manifest itself.

BOOM!

Angel and I fell forward. It felt like something had crashed into the submarine from behind. There were several explosions followed by more of Angel's screams. We braced ourselves against the unexpected turbulence. The frog men had attacked our ship by attaching explosives to its sides.

The damage indicator switched on. The sound of glass shattering echoed throughout the cabin and water started pouring in, reminding me of a similar time when Angel and I were in a emergency predicament in Electric City. Angel screamed.

As the submarine started taking in more water, the more it sunk uncontrollably. And so did our spirits. Angel, panicking, stood up and started unwinding the hatch.

"No way! I'm not going to die in a place like this!" she said, closing her eyes in effort as she struggled to move the wheel. So much for a good driver.

"Stop it!" I ordered, dashing into the pilot's seat and assessing the situation. I hated it when people didn't know what do, I hated it when people couldn't calm down and think before they react.

But then again she was a woman. The woman named Angel, that is.

"The water pressure would crush us if we went out without suits," I said, staring at the looming scenery beyond the watershield.

Angel immediately dropped down from her efforts.

The failing submarine swerved without warning, causing more turbulence within the cabin. Angel yelled as we made a very dangerous and hard landing onto the ocean floor. The sides of the submarine grated against the tops of cars and we narrowly missed hitting a sky bridge. I did my best to decrease the speed of ship and still react quick enough to obstacles.

There was a bang as the bottom of the submarine touched the floor. The ship shook hazardously, skidding across the sunken concrete.

"The boat will never hold together!" Angel insisted in trepidation.

The submarine was approaching the staired front of what used to be an important federal building that must've looked royal and majestic in its day. Angel became amazingly quiet, realizing that there was nothing she could do. Even she was at awe at the marvelous white architecture which stood out amongst the entire gray. But awe was once again replaced by the urge for fight and flight. The vehicle quaked as our speed propelled us upwards on the wide stair steps. Angel and I were bouncing upwards. From beneath our feet arose a horrible grinding noise as the bottom of the sub began to degrade due to the massive amounts of uncontrollable friction. The front of the institution was approaching us fast the higher we went. I struggled to hold the steering wheel steady, one of the slightest things I could to help an otherwise unresponsive sub which exceeded its normal intended speeds. The danger of the situation had sank in to my senses, causing a rush of adrenaline in my body.

As I feared, the ship and the front of the building made impact as we burst through the wall of concrete, causing further damage to our already cracked watershield and sending debris from both objects everywhere. The water was already to our knees. The force of the collision caused our bodies to heave backwards. I in fact flew out of the chair like a beanbag, unintentionally letting the direction of the propellers be free reign. I almost landed on Angel who was lying motionless with closed eyes and several bruises from the collision in an awkward sitting position at the rear of the sub. Not good. I fell on my back. The several feet deep pool forming in the sub helped cushion my fall, thank goodness. I got back up on my knees heavily; the sub was still moving at a dangerous speed, but I could feel it slowing down wherever it was. I sat next to Angel, scowling, not knowing what I was doing but letting instincts kick in. I grabbed her shoulders, keeping her next to me. I did a quick check on vital signs while trying not to fall. She was still warm and had a pulse. She was just a bit unconscious. I closed my eyes in fear for the fate of the ship. The sound of the breaking hull and the scent of her blonde shampooed hair drowned me.

The ship screeched unnervingly as it lurched to a stop. All the banging noises stood to a silence. I let my eyes be closed for a few seconds at first; unsure whether I was dead or alive, feeling a bit numb. But my senses refocused and I knew I was still in existence. I felt something warm against me, something breathing, smelling the scent of perfume. I heard bubbling and the slosh of water, the faint clinking of the mechanics of the sub as it began to rest. I blinked in surprise to see her face, her surprisingly blemishless pale face set against thick black mascara and pink lips. I could tell she cared a lot about appearances.

This was the closest, strangest encounter I've ever had with this woman ever since she first stepped into my office a month ago.

I noticed I had somehow cushioned the troublemaker's head on my chest during the hard landing, protected her under my arm. For a second I realized it'd actually been a record couple of months since I slept with a woman. And then I shoved the thought away in disbelief. Me? Her? How could I even possibly have thought such a-- she was a loathsome woman anyways!

I scowled, picking her body up and sitting her on the front chair in what was the closest thing attainable to a comfortable position for a unconscious woman. She would hopefully come to in the next hour or so, I estimated, remembering the emergency training I had learned at the military police.

I looked through the watershield. Surprisingly, I saw very few blue. We were inside the federal building that still thankfully had plenty of pockets of air. However, I knew the air was a thing too good to be true and thus wouldn't last long; eventually the water from outside would seep in like a tide. I looked around the dripping interior of the sub, which was smashed up pretty bad yet surprisingly held intact long enough for us to land in the building. I grunted as I began to unwind a stunted side hatch.


	8. Chapter 8

***********  
Chapter 8

Angel  
March 24

Roger had gotten up to look out at the window. He looked so serious for once; I wondered what he was thinking about. He looked very alone and burdened as if he had all the cares of the world set upon his shoulders.

I was restless.

I thought about all the events of the day, especially the climactic moment when the ship was approaching the federal building. I was scared that I was going to die again, but I was less scared compared to the events with the monster at Electric City. I was getting used to the prospect of dying. That was scary.

My head throbbed still from my injury during the collision. I was knocked unconscious for at least twenty minutes. Roger had said: "Twenty minutes. Not that long."

Goodness gracious. I wouldn't trust myself twenty minutes drunk with any other man.

I swear I had fallen on the back of the sub and yet I awoke to find myself sitting in the front chair as if I was the pilot. I came to conclude that Roger moved me that way I wouldn't drown myself silly in an unfortunate and unnecessary accident. Out of the sheer kindness that actually existed within his deep dark cold heart.

Haha. Just kidding. Roger was the type of man who was a paradox. He wanted to appear egotistical but secretly what keeps him on is his concern for the life of others.

I got up from my spot on the table and walked up to him on whim. But I dared not intrude on his personal privacy. I stood several feet away from him.

"This used to be where people lived and worked. Up until forty years ago. Right?" I asked carefully. I had plenty of time to think about our situation. "What do you think had happened to all of them?"

Even though I already knew the answer.

"They encountered the end of the world. You can call it a cataclysm," he said simply. He leaned his elbow at the side of the window, closing his eyes. From the sides of my eyes I saw his tall dark frame.

"But it's not the end. We carry on. We're still alive. Just not concerned about... appearances," I said, staring at the window as well.

I gazed back down at the bright rectangle that was in the middle of the street, the only interesting object that we've been staring for so long besides the awkwardness of the slanted buildings. That bright rectangle was the object of my mission, my fixation for all these years, my purpose in life. But it was not just for my gain, it was for the personal enlightenment of myself, the Union, and especially those who lived under the feet of Paradigm.

That bright rectangle, that hole in the ground, was a room where valuable information was stored. Information that could give light exactly on what the events of forty years ago were. I meant to dive down there-- until certain things had to come in the way.

His opened eyes shifted to me for a moment but he didn't move his head. He had become so stiff. I felt his presence peripherally eye me up and down but I didn't dare look back.

I guess I really didn't mind him seeing me in my lingerie. I tried to suppress a smile; as quickly as that smile came it quickly went away. I sighed painfully. There was no need to get involved with anything other than my purpose.

And I certainly didn't need to get involved with him.

"Do you think it's possible?" he asked.

My heart skipped a beat for some reason. I couldn't help but meet his gaze. I was about to ask him what did he mean when he continued on, "Do you think it's possible that living isn't about caring for appearances?"

My heart fell.

"So you can say sweet things, can you?"

"Hmph," he said, our eyes meeting during some strange moment despite our distance.

And then the tone of his voice changed. He was looking at a downwards direction beyond the window.

"Hey. It's them. down there!" he yelled.

In the city below us were the unusual men who resembled frogs swimming across a street, their headlamps giving off their creepy glow.

My competition.


	9. Chapter 9

***********  
Chapter 9

Roger  
March 24

Those men who wear clothes that allow them to move underwater were exactly going after the same thing as Angel. They were drawn to the bright light of memories that shone in the dark deep sea.

"They'll take away all the memories!" Angel screamed, her face pressed against the window. She looked at me as if I personally cared about her egotistical desires.

"That light source of power! Is it something humans are capable of making?" I wondered. Electricity could be generated underground in turbines and by monsters, I knew that thanks to Electric City. But underneath oceans? Under the ruins of wiped out civilization?

Under close scrutiny of the underground vault, I saw a pair of bright 'eyes' that I knew did not belong to any frog. Something was happening, something very important. I had a feeling that those frogmen did not expect this either. A bright blue blinding glow started to emerge out of the rectangle; it grew bigger and bigger. There was a brief explosion and then debris and smoke began to rise up. Angel and I stared in fear through the window. The sound of rushing water against the glass was deafening. The glass rattled; we were afraid it was going to burst. We braced ourselves while curiously looking out. Angel screamed as she saw the empty scuba diving gear of the frogmen unnervingly floating up with the current.

"Looks like someone woke up the memories' guardian," I yelled.

There followed a second explosion. This time our entire building shook. Angel started panicking again. She started running to the right at some invisible target. "We can't stay here! You will die!"

I made sure Angel was distracted enough and then hunched down towards my left wrist, muttering into the watch, "Come in, Big O." I designated the coordinates.

The skyscraper groaned. I couldn't see out of the window; there was too much dust. Something obviously had emerged from underground, causing all the ruckus and our building to shake. In fact, the floor beneath was starting to slant. I held onto a window bar, struggling to keep ground. Angel was against one wall of the building, trying to push against it as if her strength alone could keep up thousands of tons. No, wait. She was trying to hold open the doors, trying to prevent them from closing. Things from the wall were already breaking and crashing.

"Give me a hand here, will ya? If you don't we won't get out of here!" she yelled, turning to look at me angrily. I released my position from the window and grabbed a chair, hoisting it above my head. She looked at me in fear and let go of the doors, hunching down. The building moaned as it slanted some more. She grabbed the door handle as her legs dangled.

As I fell, I smashed the chair forcefully against the windows, shattering the glass and then eventually causing an entire gush of water to flood the room. I held my breath.

I hoped Angel was a good swimmer. But then again, she was really good at surprises.

The water flooded the room, grabbing us with its currents and tearing us in multiple directions. I lost sight of Angel. But nevertheless the rush of water would shoot everything straight up to the surface. I kept eye on my watch, following the miniature map. Two minutes of excruciating lung pressure and I was at the surface, surrounded by debris. I panted heavily, catching my breath and looked around to hear screaming. There was Angel, flailing in the water meters nearby as if she couldn't swim. I immediately swam in her direction. It was early dawn.

"Roger! There you are!"

"Why did you plan on making a dive underwater if you can't swim?" I yelled to her in annoyance.

"I can, but not with--" she cried, sputtering out water, with the most frightened expression as she plunged under. I was close to her now and I dived down below, not believing the actual amount of trouble this girl caused. And then I saw her plummeting downwards with closed eyes and wide cheeks as she held her oxygen and desperately tried to kick forwards. There was something attached to her left leg.

I swam downwards to see a corpse literally attached to her limb. The frog-like scuba headlight gear wrapped around the head of the deceased man had somehow tangled itself on to her leg. I untangled it off to let it have its final resting place at the bottom of the ocean and then brought Angel to the surface. She was very weak but for the most part calm. She looked at me with eyes that looked surprisingly empty and without any emotion other than tiredness. She looked phased. I told her to hold on to my back as I swam to shore and she nodded blankly without saying one word. She coughed up more water and then stopped when her lungs were clear. I felt her breathe okay, a little bit weak, but okay. She had the most initiative to live than anyone I had ever met. If that was a good thing.

I peered out onto the beach.

Sure enough, Big O was a quarter mile of a swim nearby at the shoreline.

I brought her to shore, weighted by her body and my soaked up, dripping clothes. I did not set her on the muddy beach but rather on the wooden platform of a dock. She was motionless but breathing, and her closed eyes had an exhausted expression. She reminded me of an ill-fated human-turned sea goddess from mythology. I looked at her one more time before going to the Big O.

Like I've done so many times, I ran and climbed myself up to the cockpit. I opened the entrance hatch and jumped in, expecting to see my old man as planned but seeing an android instead. I was thankful nevertheless to see a familiar face, to see a different face.

"What happened to Norman?" I grunted. "What are you doing here, Dorothy?"

She was sitting still like a polite child on the red pilot seat, hands clasped on her lap. Her neck whirred to me. "I can operate without oxygen. It was a much wiser decision."

"I get the old guy is obviously disappointed right now," I chuckled. Dorothy leaped up to the side of the cockpit so I could take a sit. It felt good to smell fresh air again, to feel it fill my lungs and clear my mind. And the scent of my beloved Megadeus. I would never take the earth for granted.

I clicked the usual buttons, flipped the according switches, and grabbed the operational joysticks. 'CAST IN THE NAME OF GOD YE NOT GUILTY' flashed on the screen. I smiled to myself.

"Okay, Big O! And action!"

I checked my coordinates and then looked at the map on one of the screens. The moving red dot indicated there was a very large body at the northern side-- possibly a Megadeus. I proceeded to get moving. I activated the thrusters and Big O was soon on its way to the city.


	10. Chapter 10

**********************************  
Roger  
Chapter 10  
March 24

"That Megadeus is crying. What could it be crying for?" I wondered with Dorothy standing next to me. We were at the north part of the city alright. The pink sky silhouetted the tall shadows of the skyscrapers, most of them sitting up right this time. The sound of sirens and plumes of dust rose from the city, indicative of the damage the Megadeus caused.

"It has lost its master it used to serve," said Dorothy.

Hmph. I didn't really give much thought to her answer, even though it would be pretty interesting to find out why she would know. Well, I believed her anyway. She knew things and could do things I couldn't. You got to leave it to Dorothy.

"But we can't let it run rampant like this. It's too dangerous," I pointed out.

I commanded the Big O to follow where the police cars were. The Megadeus who came from under the sea left a huge wave of destruction. According to the coordinates, the police were directly in front of my opponent, pursuing their target in their tanks. Soon, I had closed in on their exact location.

My first impression of the Megadeus was that it looked like a giant fuzz ball more than a sea titan. It looked similar to one of the Megadeus I've encountered before by the bay. Its most striking feature was its yellow glowing 'eyes'. The military police shot projectiles at the Megadeus, causing it to start on fire and lean back on a building. The monster wailed in anger. Its outer layer burned off, revealing grey metal that would obviously stun the military police and infuriate Dan Dastun. The Megadeus laid still on the building for a moment but then the flames died off. Out of the Megadeus' shoulders rose the turrets. The thing was angry and knew it had enemies. The military police would have to retreat. They screeched in reverse as the Megadeus launched missiles toward it. I grabbed the control levers and interfered, situating the Big O in between the two objects. The Big O took the blast, crossing its arms, allowing the military police to have plenty of time to flee to safety. The entire cockpit shook from the force of the missiles as my Megadeus lost 10% efficiency as a result of my acting as a shield. I closed my eyes at the bright blinding flash of yellow as fire met metal. My opponent was very powerful.

The fired died off and now I saw the Megadeus face to face. It certainly looked terrifying because of its ironic 'smile': two slanted eyes and an evilly grinning 'mouth'. Its mouth was the scariest thing about it, though. Every time the Megadeus was decisive upon a new move, the mouth, a series of glowing panels, would flash and blink in numerous patterns.

"Alright, it's showtime! Let's go!" I yelled as I took the joysticks again, the Big O immediately shifting with my command. I activated the big silver piston.

"Why do you always have to say those things?" said Dorothy.

I approached the Megadeus and it backed away. I withdrew the piston as far back as I could, preparing for a full-force blow.

"Sea titan, listen to me!" I said. Even though I knew it wouldn't care. But yelling things at my enemies sure helped boost my morale. "I don't know what kind of memories you have in your stored head, but there are people trying to exploit them. And those people are your enemies!"

And I released the piston, smashing it directly into the Megadeus' head. Sparks flew as its head burst and its interior mechanics on the torso began to catch flame. Debris fell on the street below. It was now headless. Which meant no more memories.

The Megadeus plummeted onto the ground. Now the only one in town was Big O-- the way that it should be.

****


	11. Chapter 11

Angel  
Chapter 11  
March 24

"Oh, Roger. Is that you?"

That was the first thing I called out when I awoke to find myself at the dock, rescued from my horrible ordeal at the sea. I had thought about the corpse that had caught my leg and shuddered.

At first, I felt intensely grateful towards him for saving my life. Time and time over.

But now, as I leaned against a building, watching the downfall of the Megadeus-- and memories which could potentially enlighten Paradigm City-- my gratitude towards my savior turned into hatred.

I stared at the Big O as it stood still, wondering what Roger the Killjoy was thinking. He was obviously rejoicing at what he had done. Obviously, he was trying to play hero, thinking it was the right thing to destroy what so many have lusted after. But he was wrong. And he would have to pay for it later, I knew. I'd have to pay for it later, too. Alex would be furious.

I felt the onslaught of tears coming, their sting in my eyes that were already irritated from the salt water, but I fought them back. But I so wanted to cry from the spilt milk. He didn't understand. He didn't understand that there was good to memories. I wasn't exploiting them, I was helping people. People who wanted to know where they came from and what the hell happened so they could just move on with their lives. They just wanted their identities. And for someone to say that they have the power to take away their happiness, just like that?

Roger was the one that was greedy.

"I hate you, Roger. You don't understand what it's like to be me," I spat.


End file.
